Luke
You’re out shopping with Luke in the middle of the week, because, as always, you’ve run out of food. You push the cart as he loads it with food and vegemite. Mostly vegemite. The boys go through one bottle in two days; it never ceases to amaze you. As you push the cart, you start to get dizzy. You shake your head and keep going. This always happens when you get your period, something you hate, but can’t do anything about. The doctor tells you to take iron pills, but they don’t do shit when you lose so much blood. Then the world starts to spin. Not good. You clutch onto the handlebar of the shopping cart and stop in the middle of the aisle, causing Luke to miss the basket and drop the cereal box on the floor. Placing the cereal back on the shelf, he walks over to you and puts his hand on your back. “You okay, babe?” he asks, worry marring his features. You nod your head. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” you say, pushing him back towards the food so that you can get the shopping over with. Then you pass out, in the middle of the store. Obviously you’re not okay. It doesn’t take long to gain consciousness again, only a few seconds. Luke is hovering over you, checking your temperature and asking if you’re okay again and again, never leaving you enough time to respond. “Luke—-” you try to say. “We have to get you to the doctor and you need to—-” You have to shut him up. “LUKE HEMMINGS!” you yell, glaring at him. “I’m fine, I just need to go home and lie down.” His eyes widen at your outburst, but he nods and helps you up. He leaves the cart full of vegemite in the middle of the aisle, not bothering to buy it, and leads you out to the car. As he drives, he interrogates you about what just happened. You attempt to explain everything and you’re amazed that he doesn’t get disgusted or embarrassed, even though you are definitely the latter. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You should have told me, I wouldn’t have made you come,” he says, sliding his hand over yours. You shake your head. “It’s not your fault, just my stupid genes.” When you get home, he makes you a nice hot dinner of chicken soup, gives you pain medication and sends you straight to bed. Sliding into the covers beside you, he gives you a stomach massage and puts you to sleep with his soft humming.
Michael
Why? That’s all you have to say right now. Why? Michael had everything planned today, and now you can’t even get up off the couch. You bury your face in the cushions and let out another whimper when the cramps get worse. Even the pain medication wasn’t working. You hear the front door open and raise your head, only to hide it again when he walks into the living room. “Babe!!” he yells, gently shaking you. “Get up!! Our reservation is in an hour and you’re not even dressed yet.” But you don’t get up, you simply shift into the fetal position and wrap your arms tightly around your midsection, willing away the cramps. Michael must realize that you’re not okay, because he stops trying to get you to stand up and sits down next to you. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You look up to see his blue eyes full of concern. You nod, then wince again, signalling him that you’re not alright. “Babe? What’s going on?” he asks again. “Cramps,” you whisper. It takes a few seconds, but he finally catches on. He frowns and leans down to kiss you on the forehead. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. You shake your head. “No, Michael, I’m sorry. I’ve ruined all your plans, I—-” He shakes his head and puts a finger to your lips to stop you from talking. “Y/N, this isn’t your fault, just bad luck. I’ll go cancel the reservation.” You start to apologize again but he cuts you off once more with a kiss to your lips. “Stop saying sorry, I’m perfectly fine with a lazy evening,” he says with a smile. He leaves the room and you can hear him call the restaurant, then open a few cupboards. A few minutes later, he’s back with a heating pad, some nutella, and two game controllers. He sits down next to you and gently pulls you into his side, lifting your shirt and placing the heat pad on your stomach. He hands you the bottle of nutella with a spoon and throws a blanket over the two of you. “Better?” he asks. You smile and nod, turning to give him a kiss. He hands you one of the controllers and you spend the rest of the night playing video games and cuddling. It couldn’t have been better.
Ashton
“Ughhhhh,” you scream into your pillow, punching it with your fists. You feel bad for it, but it’s the only thing that takes your abuse and doesn’t talk back. You groan once more for the added effect and jump as the bed dips with the weight of another person. You slowly turn your head to find Ashton looking at you with his eyebrows raised, trying not to laugh. “Shut up,” you say. That just causes him to burst into giggles. He ruffles your hair and you glare at him, then wince when you get another cramp. “Hey, what’s wrong babe?” he asks with a worried look. You shove your face into his chest and mumble something. “What’s that?” he asks, pulling you away from him. Your cheeks burn as you repeat yourself. “I said, I don’t have any fucking Midol or pads and I didn’t want to ask you, because it’s just embarrassing, and—-” He interrupts you by rolling off the bed and grabbing his keys. “Say no more, I’ll be right back,” he says over shoulder as he walks out the door. You frown, but quickly smile when you realize what he’s doing. He’s back as soon as he left and you’re still in the same place, with your face still in the pillow. You hear the rustling of plastic bags in the kitchen and then footsteps coming into the bedroom. You wait for Ashton to say something, but instead, he just hands you a glass of water and a pill, waiting patiently as you swallow it. When you finish, he takes the glass and lays down beside you, gently rubbing circles on your tummy to relieve your cramps. He hums in your ear and snuggles his head into the crook of your neck, making you sleepy. After a little while, you feel him pull away. “Feel better?” You nod and thank him with a kiss, which makes him grin. “Anytime, babe,” he says. “Guess what I got?” You glance up at him with a questioning look. “Pizza!” he yells before before both of you leap off the bed and race to the box in the middle of the kitchen. You definitely have the best boyfriend.
Calum
You throw open the bathroom cupboard and yell a string of curses when you realize that you have no more pads or tampons. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You slam the cupboard again and turn to rummage through your purse to see if you have any extra ones. You start to curse again when you don’t find any. Grabbing your phone, you go for the last resort, the very last resort. You call Calum. You sit on the counter and pray for him to pick up. “Come on Cal, come on—- ah fuck,” you say to yourself as the annoying automated voice messaging system starts to drone in your ear. You almost hang up until Calum starts to talk, effectively cutting off the answering machine. “Sorry babe, didn’t hear the phone,” he says. You can hear the voices of the other boys and guitars in the background. “What’s up?” he asks. You shake your head; who were you to think that he would drop everything to go to the store for you. You regret calling him. “Oh, it’s nothing Cal. You’re probably busy, I’ll just—-” He interrupts you. “Nah, we’re just messing around, nothing important. Do you need something?” You feel your cheeks burning as you say, “Um, yeah. Could you maybe… um… you know what, never mind.” You hear him shuffling something and then a loud bang. The background noise is gone and you realize that he’s already outside. “You obviously need something Y/N, what is it?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. “I just… could you get me some tampons?” you ask no louder than a whisper. “And maybe some Midol?” You hear the sound of a car starting and you smile to yourself. “No need to to be embarrassed, babe,” he says, making you blush even more. “I’ll be there in a few.” You thank him and hang up, waiting for the sound of the front door opening. Instead, your phone starts to vibrate. You pick it up and look at the Caller I.D. to see it’s Calum. Answering, you hear a very panicked boyfriend. “Y/N, there are so many fucking things, which one is it is it Tampax or Playtex or—-” You giggle and cut him off, explaining exactly what you need. A few minutes later, he’s home with everything you asked for and more. You thank him with a nice make out session on the couch, but only after you get the midol and tampons. You spend the rest of the day watching TV and eventually fall asleep in his arms.
